When used to playing the hurting game.
To find a man who deserves no pain.One day of love and love anon
Appears too soon and soon is gone.
The silent words and empty pages
Romanticise the war love wages.And secret admirers are left unknown,
Never hurting the one that they’ll never own.
Yet it’s so hard to leave unsigned
The only chance at love you’ll find.So we are left, in vain, to dream
Of everything that might have been.
And when alone in later years
You’ll call a name and hope he hears.By then perhaps it is too late
To put the experience down to fate.
If only lovers when they loved
Had courage and admitted such.For then each year when hearts do pine
You’ll go on loving your Valentine.
